


moonlark's song

by mossring



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: F/F, also this is centric on tam & linh, dex is the media person & analyst, figure skating AU, fitz & keefe are men's single skaters, mr. forkle is their figure skating coach, solinh, sophie & biana are ladies' single skaters, tam & linh are an ice dance pair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mossring/pseuds/mossring
Summary: They’re the last to perform.





	moonlark's song

**Author's Note:**

> this is something i wrote almost a year ago and i've been struggling to continue... so take it for what it's worth
> 
> even though i don't write keeper fanfiction anymore, have a figure skating au. just wanted to push that out there.

**ONE**

They’re the last to perform.

The bright lights of the arena reflect off the scratches on the ice, nearly blinding Linh as she and Tam step into another series of frenzied synchronised swizzles—but they pull it off perfectly, thanks to muscle memory.

The crowd cheers and claps, ringing in her ears and overshadowing the program music—but they remain perfectly in beat, thanks to the internal rhythm of the music pounding in their head, paired with the intensively choreographed sequence into which they lunge, Linh held in Tam’s arms as he spins them around and around, the cold wind whooshing in their ears. 

And then it all comes to a sudden, stuttering stop.

Linh thrusts her arms in the air as the ending pose, Tam doing the same beside her. He bows to the crowd, while she holds the fabric of her dress and curtsies, her skates scratching the ice as she twirls around, waving to the audience, a smile on her face. 

“Linh and Tam Song, everybody!” the announcer hollers into the microphone. Linh sees Tam visibly flinch at the mention of their last name, like he always does, and reaches over to hold his hand.

The audience begins throwing things down for them—stuffed toys, flowers and other gifts—and as she and Tam glide towards the exit, she bends down to pick up a single red rose in front of her. She twirls it around in her hand, staring at the beautiful deep red of the papery petals, and the tiny card attached to it.

They head over to the kiss and cry, and their scores come up—a personal best for them, and just like that, they’ve overtaken all the previous competitors and are currently in the first place. Linh claps a hand over her mouth, trembling in joy. Tam reaches over and pulls her into an excited hug, and as they lean into each other, Linh forgets about the rose in her hand and revels in this wonderful feeling, with the whole arena cheering for them, Tam by her side, and being able to skate with him to her heart’s content.

She wants to keep this feeling with her forever, this numbingly surreal and blissful feeling. After all, it wasn’t long ago when she felt like the whole world was conspiring against her.

* * *

For most of Linh’s life, she’s only known two things—Tam, and ice dancing.

And before those two things—well. Before ice dancing, she only knew Tam—and her parents.

But now? She knows no parents. They’re dead to her, and she’s dead to them. 

They’d never wanted Tam and her—they were only planning to have one child and leave it at that, but sometimes the universe just plots against you and you end up with not one, but _ two _ twins—beautiful twins, but still twins.

It’s not as if they were poor—in fact, their mother’s a world-renowned songwriter—she makes beautiful, haunting musical compositions for symphonies and orchestras to perform—and their father’s a government agent—but they still refuse to support her and Tam in their ice dancing.

“It’s a useless thing,” her mother said loftily, “and a boy like Tam, _ ice skating? _ Why, everyone would think he’s—well, you know. _ That.” _

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Linh knew exactly what she was trying to say. It’s a common stereotype that male figure skaters are gay, and because of that there are fewer and fewer boys learning to skate. She _ hates _ it. She hates that stereotype, and she hates the homophobia surrounding the stereotype.

Their father wasn’t any better. 

“I’d never wanted two of you anyway,” he said. “If you insist on your foolish endeavour, then fine by me. Just don’t expect us to fund your skating expenses.”

And just like that, they’d disowned them. Banished them from their family. Linh compiled their remaining savings and used some of it to fly them to the States when they were 11, and now, nine years later, they’re here, in this arena, and they’ve just won the gold—again. For the third time this season.

She wishes she could see her parents’ faces from the other side of the television.

* * *

After the gala exhibition, she and Tam are about to head over to their hotel room to crash after a long day, when Keefe Sencen stops them in their path. Keefe is a singles skater who trains with them under the same coach—Mr. Forkle—and he and Tam don’t exactly get along.

Naturally, Tam scowls at him. “Piss off, Sencen.” And naturally, Keefe ignores him, a smirk on his face like he’s not affected by Tam’s aloofness at all.

“You two not gonna join us in the afterparty?”

“No, especially if you’re going to be there,” says Tam immediately. Linh elbows him in the side good-naturedly and mouths, _ Manners! _

“Oh, but you _ should, _Bangs Boy,” says Keefe, the smirk still on his face. “See, everyone’s going to be there—Fitz, Marella, Jensi, Biana…”

Tam tenses at the last name, and inwardly, Linh sighs at her brother, hiding a small smile. Before he can reply, she latches on to his arm and smiles at Keefe. “Okay. We’ll come. Just give us a minute to change.”

Though Linh doesn’t look up to see Tam’s face, she knows that he’s about to kill her.

* * *

“What the _ hell, _Linh?”

Yep.

Ignoring him, Linh rummages through her luggage for the dress she’s packed specially for the afterparty. Even the dress is sponsored by a fashion brand—it’s a pure white chiffon dress, with flaring sleeves and an airy, asymmetrical skirt that reaches down to her knees. She lifts her jet-black hair, admiring the silver, metallic streaks before draping a light blue shawl around her shoulders.

She slips into a pair of silver heels—not too high, as they strain her feet—and finally turns around to acknowledge Tam. He is still in his free dance costume, his Team USA jacket wrapped around him as he scowls and says, “I’m not going.”

Linh arches an eyebrow at him. “So you’re just going to leave me on my own at the party, with no one to take care of me?”

“Keefe will take care of—” he stops. “Oh my god, was I seriously thinking of leaving you in the care of that boy?”

Linh laughs. 

“I’ll come, I’ll come,” he says hurriedly.

“I thought you would. Besides, Biana’s going to be there. Now get dressed or I’ll leave with Keefe!”

She turns on her heel before he could protest.

* * *

They’re the last to arrive.

They’re late—_ very _ late. Everyone’s heads swivel to stare at them, and Linh feels like she’s back in the arena, the lights trained on her, the crowd watching their every movement on the ice.

Keefe walks in with them—even without the suit, he’s got a natural confidence about him, and he strides in like no one’s watching. Tam and Linh stray behind lingeringly, Linh bowing her head and scratching her arms and Tam giving everyone who glances at them the death glare. Then Biana Vacker steps into their path, and the death glare falters, flickering into a small, shy smile.

“Oh, hey, Biana,” he says, and the female figure skater flashes him a dazzling smile in return. Without even glancing at Tam, Linh knows he’s already melting at that smile.

“Hi, Biana,” she greets, and Biana pulls her into an excited hug. Linh lets herself get squashed into the hug, and turns her head to wink at Tam, who gives her an annoyed look.

“Oh, Linh!” she squeals. “It’s been so long, I’ve missed you tons! You too, Tam! You two were _ amazing _ out there.”

“So were you,” says Linh kindly. “Unfortunately we missed a huge chunk of your free skate, but we still managed to see that beautiful lutz-toe. I can’t believe you managed to nail it, that’s great!” Over the years, as strange as it sounds, Linh’s learned to talk to people. Back in Vietnam, when they were in their parents’ house, they had little chance to actually interact with people. When they flew to America, they not only had the language barrier and culture shock to deal with, they were also socially inept and Linh often didn’t know what to say to people. But now, with close friends she could depend on and a team to support her and Tam, Linh may still be shy at times but at least she knows how to not embarrass herself in public situations.

“You’re too nice, Linh,” says Biana, but her eyes light up with the compliment. “But thank you. Of course, congratulations for getting 1st—again—and I’m happy to bag the bronze too—but what I’m more worried about is Sophie.”

Linh frowns. “Sophie? Do I know her?”

“Sophie Foster,” clarifies Biana, but one glance at Tam tells Linh neither of them have heard of that person. “Singles ladies’ skater, like me. This is her Grand Prix debut. I forgot to tell you she recently changed coaches to Mr. Forkle—but of course, you wouldn’t know because we train at the Foxfire Rink while you two train at Exillium Ice. Anyway, like most Grand Prix debuts usually go, she messed up due to nerves and came in second last.”

“Oh,” says Linh, feeling a twinge of sympathy for this Sophie. “That must be really sad.” After all, she and Tam would know—their Grand Prix debut at Skate Canada was, least to say, disastrous. Those days were the darker days of their career, when they were first starting out, and that loss meant so much more when they felt they had to prove their competency to their parents.

Biana nods, the smile vanishing from her lips.

“So where’s Sophie now?” Tam asks.

“Well,” says Biana. “She was the second to skate, and right after her free skate she passed me in a hurry and told me not to look for her, or anyone in that matter. She was crying, and I think she locked herself up in the ladies’ room until it was almost my turn to skate, and before I went onto the ice I saw her with Dex at the side of the rink where the media always hang.”

“Dex?” Linh repeats the name, feeling like an idiot.

“Dexter Dizznee,” Biana clarifies again, and Linh instantly recognises the name. Dexter Dizznee is a figure skating analyst, professional photographer, and a friend of Tam and Linh’s. He’s been nothing but kind to them ever since their first interview together, back when Tam and her were still starting out their ice dancing career.

“We know that guy,” Tam says, and Biana nods, unsurprised.

“Figured you would—everyone knows Dex. Anyway, after that it was free dance, that’s when you guys skated, and I never saw her after that. I tried calling her but she isn’t picking up any of my calls.” Biana sighs. "I'm worried about her. She's a skating prodigy—_ really amazing _, has the whole package—but now I fear she's burnt out with all the pressure." 

"Skating prodigy?" interjects Tam.

"That's why everyone's been piling their expectations on her, but now she's messed up her Grand Prix debut everyone’s giving her hate,” explains Biana, heaving a sigh. “Anyway, no time to talk about that now. Sophie’s missing—we have to find her, I’m scared she’ll do something!”

Linh nods. “We’ll help look for her. Right, Tam?”

Tam flashes an unsure look, but he soon gives in and nods too. Biana gives them a small smile.

“Thanks. Now, follow me!” 


End file.
